


Mir Da'len Somniar

by dovahqueene



Series: Farrow Lavellan [5]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Fluff, cat's not involved in this one you can all go home, i need to realize what fluff is so i can accurately tag it but, i wrote this at 5 am and might have cried i dont remember
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-08
Updated: 2016-07-08
Packaged: 2018-07-22 08:57:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 905
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7428352
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dovahqueene/pseuds/dovahqueene
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Clan Lavellan is killed, the Inquisitor can't help but blame herself, and the Commander can't... help.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mir Da'len Somniar

**Author's Note:**

> i get all of my (basic) ideas at like 5 am so that's when i wrote this bc i found a vocal adaptation for this thing and i can't find it anymore so !! fun anyway here's something real cheesy. also i didnt let clan lavellan die i am not a monster just putting that out there but i heard there was no acknowledgement about it so i wrote it. its bad have fun this is too much to put in 1 note thing sorry

She'd been so _tortured_ lately. It sounded so very cliché – a tortured leader who soldiers on – but ever since the news of her clan had come...

When she had returned from the Western Approach with a grin on her face, having just killed a third high dragon, there had been celebrations planned. Not too big, just a few cups of whatever the hell Bull had been giving her, but she had been absent. Cullen had approached her with Lady Volant's letter in hand (they'd voted in the war room) and it had not... gone well. Farrow had been so happy, preparing to tell him every last detail like she had the first two times her friends had managed to kill a dragon. She hadn't even bothered with the privacy they'd been trying to keep, instead kissing him on the battlements as soon as she saw him.

"Is something wrong?" she'd asked, when he showed little interest in the kisses she was peppering on his face. Things like that were unlike her, and it made what he had to do that much harder.

"I... We received news. Of your clan," he mumbled.

She slid away, slowly, and he had felt the nerves rising in his chest again. "And?" she breathed, her eyes wide.

He couldn't find the words. Instead, he stood there like an idiot, lips forming words he couldn't say. Slowly, she'd dropped her eyes and nodded, and departed without saying a word.

Before, she'd told him that she wasn't returning to her clan, but she still had friends, and maybe – although she never spoke about them – family in it. And he knew her – he knew she'd blame herself. She had a tendency to do that. If she hadn't attempted to negotiate, if she'd listened to Cullen's advice... but she had little choice; their forces were spread thin as it was, most still helping out at the remnants of Adamant.

In the last week, he'd given her space. Everyone had. War meetings – at least the few she attended – were brisk and nearly silent. Cullen tried to approach her afterwards, but she offered him only a small, sad smile before returning to her quarters. He'd seen Dorian try, too, but he'd left her rooms with the books he'd brought still in his arms. Cole would of undoubtedly tried, and she would've undoubtedly waved him away. He'd help her forget, and she wouldn't want that.

But tonight, she'd shown up in the middle of the night, silently lying down beside him. She had been pressed against him when he'd finally managed to fall asleep, but when he woke, a soft and unfamiliar song in his head, she was on her side near the edge of the bed, facing away from him.

_Mala tara aravas, ara ma'desen melar..._

Was that her? It was just a whisper of a song.

_Iras ma, ghilas da'len, ara ma'nedan ashir?_

She was gripping the blanket with fingernails bitten down to stubs. He wondered when that habit had started; he knew her hands, however odd that was to say, and her nails had always been a bit longer than that.

_Dirthara lothlenan'as, bal emma mala dir._

She was definitely singing, her words quiet and choked. Elven, of course, and he couldn't understand a word of it. He reached a hand out to place on her arm, which was surprisingly cold. "Are you... you're not alright."

Silence, stillness. "No, I am not."

He felt powerless, if he was being honest. He'd never been particularly good at comforting people, but he could always mange _something_. Now, though, consoling words completely alluded him, so instead he asked, "What was that you were singing?"

She turned slowly on her back, looking up at the hole in his ceiling he'd yet to have fixed. "Dalish lullaby," she mumbled. "I didn't mean to wake you. It just... helps, lately, when I can't sleep."

Again, he was a loss trying to think of how to comfort her. When he brushed a loose strand of hair from her eyes, she glanced at him. He couldn't been sure in the dim light, but he wouldn't have been surprised if those words tears he saw about to spill. "You can sing, if you want," he whispered. He had to say _something_.

She closed her eyes, and when they opened again, they were towards the ceiling.

After a few minutes of silence, his eyes felt heavy again, and he let them close. He heard her voice again, then, slightly louder now.

" _Elgara vallas, da'len, melava somniar. Mala tara aravas, ara ma'desen melar."_

Her voice wasn't beautiful, though perhaps that was due to how... jagged her words were. She sounded close to tears, and he was sure she was.

" _Iras ma ghilas, da'len, ara ma'nedan ashir? Dirthara lothlenan'as, bal emma mala dir._ "

He couldn't if it was supposed to sound so _sad –_ a lullaby was meant to ease someone to sleep, not do... this.

" _Tel'enfenim, da'len, irassal ma ghilas, ma garas mir renan._ "

She was singing through clenched teeth at this point, but she took a shaky breath and continued, " _Ara ma'althen vhenas_."

One more line, slower this time, and the last word dragged out shakily.

" _Ara ma'althen vhenas._ "

He leaned forward, kissed her forehead, and didn't move away as she took his hand. Tears that he hadn't realized were falling had stopped, and the deep breath she took was not shaky.

_Ara ma'althen vhenas_.

 


End file.
